


Too Spoopy, Much Ghost

by CC_Writes



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Ghosts, Grif is a big protective sweetheart and a hopeless romantic, Haunting, Humor, M/M, Simmons has basically adopted Caboose, Tucker - Freeform, Washington, carolina - Freeform, donut - Freeform, red team shenanigans, sarge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12160260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes/pseuds/CC_Writes
Summary: Inspired by a prompt by tyrian-callows on Tumblr.Post Season 15 the Reds and Blues move into a new base, when weird things start happening they conclude that the place is haunted as fuck. Grif isn't sure he believes that, but they're probably going to have to do something about it eventually.





	Too Spoopy, Much Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mantisbelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/gifts).



> This one seems to fluctuate between humor and seriousness, it also contains a lot of fluff and Grif gushing about Simmons. I tried a different kind of perspective from what I normally do so hopefully that's consistent. I hope you all find it suitably entertaining!

 

  
          It starts off, unlike most things in their lives, subtly. Well, maybe innocently is a better word? Though every one of them is hardly innocent. Maybe innocuous is better?

...Is he using that right? Simmons is the wordsmith in their pair, not him. That and Grif doesn't really care.

Either way, whatever the word, it starts with small things. Items not where they were left, doors open or closed, small things going missing, hearing footsteps when no one is there, the occasional unidentified whispered word or sound, something darting out of the corner of your eye...

It could have easily been any of them though. Nine people, well eight and a robot (seven and a robot and a cyborg?) in one building? Yeah, stuff was going to get moved or taken or whatever, people were going to do things without telling you. Anything that made you jump or startled you had an explanation, even if it was that they each had a healthy dose of PTSD (and Grey knew what else). So no one really noticed at first, and when they did, didn't give it a lot of thought.

Really, they should have been suspicious from the get-go, hindsight being 20/20 and all, especially given the new base (Apartment? Condo? Dorm? Grif thinks it used to be a dorm) was in fairly presentable shape when they moved in, much to the delight of nerdier members of the team and relief from others who hadn't wanted to clean it. It's not perfect, it still holds a lot of the scars the war left despite being mostly intact, burn marks on the outside, benign cracks, there might have been other floors above them but that part is long gone, there are two floors below them but while it's structurally sound the space is completely ruined so the doors are boarded up and the stairway only goes up here and to what serves as the roof now. Some parts of the building have seen an attempt at refurbishing, there're signs of fresh paint and the now roof has become a sort of fenced off outdoor deck area. Donut is planting a garden up there. They chalk it up to the people of Chorus still wanting to thank them and wrote off the single locked room at the end of the hall with the busted ceiling light as likely being unstable or just broken, like everything else. The planet is still rebuilding after all.

So it's not pretty really. It's kind of gloomy and cold when it rains too long and its got poor lighting when it's dark. Some of the windows are boarded over and there's a creepy draft in certain places, not to mention the sounds the place makes at night or when the wind is blowing. It creaks and _groans_ and whistles and whispers. It's a stable but broken place. So in a way, it's kind of like them. They're not sure how long they'll be staying, but it's better than some places they've been so they make due.

  
          The first person to propose ghosts is Tucker (because of course it's him) after he claims to have seen one of the automatic doors opening and closing on its own. Like Grif, everyone assumes it's a joke, and maybe it really had started as one, but as time went on it becomes clear that Tucker **does** , in fact, believe in ghosts and **is** , in fact, afraid of them.

It gets worse after that because Tucker starts refusing to go anywhere alone and begins dragging Washington with him almost all of the time, despite the former freelancer's protests that he does not possess superpowers and can't actually fight off a ghost if there is one.

Now apparently said big bad freelancer also believes in ghosts or is highly suggestible to things he can't explain, because he gets more and more agitated the longer this goes on. Eventually, their little huddle goes from two to three with the addition of Carolina who can smell Wash's fear from the other side of the building and is now their officially unofficial bodyguard. She insists she doesn't believe in ghosts but Grif is calling bullshit given how twitchy she's being, and he finds himself kind of hoping there really is a ghost just so he can watch her flip her shit and try to punch it. Because if anyone can punch out an incorporeal dead guy it's Carolina.

So if their three "strongest" (and man does he use that term loosely) are all suitably freaked out by the _ghost,_  it shouldn't be surprising that the rest of the team is losing their shit.

Lopez won't set foot in the building, sitting outside by a storage shed, regardless of weather, and despite having learned Spanish Grif can't make sense of the robot's excuses.

Donut is the loudest and most hysteric. He has run literally _screaming_ from rooms, claiming to have seen objects move or float. At one point he near full body tackles Grif in the hallway sobbing something about a chair being pulled up to his in the kitchen and that he doesn't want to make pottery or make out with Whoopi Goldberg, and Grif concludes that his already nutty teammate has completely lost his mind.

Actually, better to say that they've all gone crazy at this point because Sarge really takes the goddamn cake. Grif walks in on him trying to carve a cross out of an **_onion_** , the old man's eyes are red and puffy and leaking tears even when he locks his neigh murder filled eyes with Grif, who slowly backs the fuck out of the kitchen and decides that _just_ this one time maybe his snacks can wait. They always knew Sarge was hyper superstitious, but this and the ranting and the raving? It's just ridiculous!

  
          They end up eating onions the next few days with both lunch and dinner, given how many Sarge has ruined, and Simmons will not stand for them wasting food like this. Grif agrees enthusiastically, wasting food is a tremendous sin and he showers Simmons with affection for taking a stand on the subject. Not to mention, for the surprisingly firm lecture, he overhears him giving Sarge after he's basically tattled on the old man post catching him making his weird ass arts and crafts project.

And isn't that a surprise? The only one not going bonkers is _Simmons!_ Because Simmons is logical and sensible, sometimes to a fault. But, he doesn't believe in ghost. He's afraid of a lot of things, some that Grif thinks are silly, but they're all real and/or tangible.

He's even pissed off enough now to go so far as to scoff and roll his eyes when someone starts up about their resident spook, he's even had a staring (well _glaring_ really) contest with mother fucking rip out your spine and make you eat it, _Carolina_. (Simmons marches back to their room like it's no big deal, where he then all but has a heart attack, but it's still pretty bad ass) He is firm in his assertion that ghosts are not real and this whole thing has him pissed off enough that he's actually somewhat taking charge of their nonsense.

  
          Grif adores his boyfriend for that, (and god doesn't it feel good to actually call him that without feeling like the world is going to implode?) for being the rock of sanity and stability in this sea of madness.

Truthfully? Grif is with him on this, 100%, he's had to chase away enough 'ghosts' and monsters under beds and in closets to know they aren't real, especially since there are far more dangerous things that do exist to worry about.

Like evil versions of yourself! Or bats!

And with all the weird shit they've seen over the years how could they possibly believe in ghosts? To which Tucker counters that that is the exact reason they **can't** discount them. Grif simply concludes that Tucker is still an impeccably stupid man and a giant asshole.

He and Simmons laugh about how absurd this all is. How is it that they have in essence become team parent(s)? Isn't that Washington's job? Guy probably did need a break but seriously, was this the way to get one?

Of course this begs the silly question, which one if them is ' _the mom_ '?

Grif asserts that if you go purely off of behavioral stereotypes and _certain romantic preferences_ , that it's totally Simmons. To which he is summarily threatened with being made to sleep on the floor by his scarlet faced boyfriend. So, of course, Grif has to bury them both under the blankets and prove what a grievous waste of his many talents that would be.

In short, it's a hilarious if bizarre joke.

 

  
Until it isn't.

 

  
          It first happens when he and Simmons are walking down the hall. His boyfriend is mid-sentence when he suddenly stops with a cry of pain, slapping his hand over his artificial eye, which Grif sees blinking different colors though cracks between his fingers, and all but doubles over. Simmons assures him he's fine when it's over, just a glitch causing his eye to switch rapidly through different settings. Probably just stress, no big deal, he promises.

Grif believes him until he finds out that it **keeps happening** , different times different locations. Well some are different locations. There is one that repeats.

_The locked door under the broken light._

They are, in fact, walking down that **exact** dark, dank, _depressing_ , hall arguing about that **exact** thing when it happens **again**. This time is different though. Instead of cringing and hiding from the pain caused by information overload, Simmons gasps and grabs him by the hand, pulling Grif along to press his back against the wall, arm across his chest as though trying to protect him. Grif tries to scold him because really, what the hell? but whatever he'd planned to say never makes it out of his mouth, Simmons' expression sees to that. He looks absolutely _terrified_ , frozen, eyes locked on the end of the hallway, light from his robot eye flickering as it flicks through different hues and colors.

Grif attempts to ask, "what is it?" but is cut off when Simmons yelps, darting down to a protective crouch, pulling him with him, throwing an arm over his head to guard him against whatever it is he sees, and Grif swears he feels something rush past him!

"Simmons?"

" _There's someone here_."

It's the honest whisper that makes Grif feel afraid of their 'ghost' for the first time.

  
          They end up alone in the living room, Grif lets himself fuss over the redhead, making sure he's alright and calmed down, which helps calm his own nerves. When he's sure, he presses him to tell him just what the hell just happened?! Surely Simmons doesn't buy this ghost crap all of a sudden?

He doesn't, Simmons assures him, this isn't a ghost. What's disturbing is what he says after, because if it can't be a ghost, then that means there is another **person** here, he's sure of it now. All these other times he's caught glimpses, too little to properly identify but enough to set his eye to try and force them into view by switching the spectrum. It's disorienting and it hurts to switch that quickly so he had chalked the glimpses up to a glitch. Not anymore though, he saw them clearly this time, well clear as in the shape of them moving down the hall. Someone quite large, a humanoid shape. They'd run past them right after, probably realizing they'd been seen.

Simmons rests his forehead against Grif's shoulder, self-doubt peeking up its ugly little head, even though he knows he's right, it forces him to wonder if he's just losing it and giving in to everyone else's paranoia. It would almost be preferable, a real person secretly living here is much more terrifying than a dead one. Grif agrees that this is a suitably fucked situation and asks what Simmons wants to do about it. If he comes up with an idea to catch this asshole Grif will make it work, they're good like that.

That soft smile and the adoration in Simmons' eyes, when he makes him happy, always makes his heart skip a beat or two. This time he's even rewarded with a kiss.

_Well, hot damn!_

Simmons admits that he's not sure of what they can do, other than try to find some concrete evidence. At this point they have no proof, and without it there isn't going to be any help from the authorities, they simply can't be spared for wild goose chases, and he's positive that the others are just going to assume he's believing in their _ghost_ now or, worse, will assume that he can _see_ ghosts and then he'll never have a moment's piece again!

That makes sense, so Grif agrees, proof first, then cops. Besides, there's no way he's going to share Simmons with anyone else now that they're finally together, and he just knows if they hear about this they'll drag his cyborg from room to room checking for bullshit ghosts. He didn't wait **15 seasons** to not have him all to himself, thank you!

  
          If protecting Simmons from harassment is the metaphorical coffin for their little, not ghost, the nail is what suddenly walks through the door. Well, awkwardly shuffles.

It's Caboose.

Caboose has been an odd factor in this craziness. He's not scared. He doesn't even seem to believe in ghosts anymore. Grif wonders when _that_ happened? At first, he seemed to think it was just some kind of game, but when he realized they were all being serious, his attitude changed. Now he just seems...sad. Not like all the time, but when the topic pops up there's a noticeable and abrupt shift in his mood, and lately, he's begun to get up and leave the room entirely.

Grif thinks he's got a good idea why.

He's said many times before and he'll probably say it again, but Simmons would make a great dad. If or when the two of them decide to add a child to their weird little equation he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that Simmons will do spectacularly.

He can tell by the way he talks to Caboose, he never snaps at any stupid or blatantly wrong statements or ideas, he calmly and patiently listens to what the blue trooper has to say, and works with him to get to the right answer. Grif has seen them talking from time to time and it's oddly heartwarming to see that Simmons has adopted the big lug at some point, not that the nerd will admit it.

Caboose starts not with actual words, but a sound, something like a whine, part frustration, and part question. Like he wants to ask something but isn't sure how or even if it's even okay to ask.

They both understand the unspoken request and Grif moves and sits in the easy-chair so there's room on the couch. Caboose hangs in the doorway for a moment or two before coming over and sitting down next to Simmons.

"I lost my book. Yesterday." it's now that Grif notes that Caboose is holding a book of some kind and instantly becomes confused, "I went to bed." Caboose continues, in the abrupt and circuitous way he speaks, "I did _not_ have it. I woke up and my book was there. On my dresser. But it wasn't there yesterday."

Simmons hums, "Someone else didn't bring it back? It wasn't Tucker or Donut?"

Caboose shakes his head, fidgeting, gripping and un-gripping the book in his hands, "No. I asked and everyone said... They said it was..."

The Blue already looked down when he came in but the more he talks and struggles to avoid asking what he really wants to the more he looks like he might cry, "Simmons?" poor guy sounds so guilty asking, like he's going to get in trouble because he's already been told this answer, "Ghosts are not real. Right? You said..."

Simmons sighs, but not in a condescending way, he's putting the pieces together and Caboose isn't who he's mad at. "No. There's no evidence that ghosts exist Caboose."

The younger man nods, somewhat vigorously, original thought reaffirmed, but there's more to it, "So... If it is not a ghost. Could it be-?" he cuts himself off, face falling, "do you think...?"

"I'm sorry. It's not impossible... but, I don't think there's any way it's him."

The childish soldier sniffs, "I know, I said goodbye... _I said goodbye_. It's mean. It's _mean_ , Simmons."

"I know. I'm so sorry Caboose." Simmons says softly, he's still bad sometimes when it comes to public displays of affection, and he still jumps on occasion from sudden physical contact, but he doesn't resist when Caboose clings to him and openly starts crying, he even tries to awkwardly hug him back.

  
          Grif is livid. Not at Caboose. At everyone else. Because he gets it, he understands what's ' _mean_ '. Even though he got to say goodbye, even though he **knows** he's gone, in some ways this will never be over for Caboose. Anytime anything like this happens he's always going to wonder, he's always going to hope.

_Do you think it's Church?_

If Church ever magically resurrects himself again Grif is going to find a way to kick him in his digital balls until he agrees to never put himself in danger or die again, for Caboose's sake. At this point, it's borderline sadistic and just plain sick. Grif's been a big brother most of his life, and while Kai may not need him anymore, that doesn't mean he's ever going to really 'retire'.

And that's it, that's the nail. Whoever their ' _ghost_ ' is, regardless of intention, no matter how much they creep him out, they're done, this shit is over.

Grif is going to catch them!

  
He fails.

A lot.

Not for lack of trying. It's just, the more Grif tries the less effective his attempts are.

He only catches something once, in the literal sense, which ends up being Donut, whom he finds stuck inside the laundry basket trap he sets, mewling and whining, flailing around, looking akin to a flipped hermit crab. It's hilarious but it doesn't accomplish Grif's goal.

Unfortunately, the others think he's hopping on the "this place is haunted as fuck" bandwagon and keep pressuring him to drag Simmons over to drink the kool-aid. It's obnoxious. They don't need an exorcist, they need the cops! Or better yet! They're soldiers (sort of), why don't they just find this person and kick their ass?

He whines in turn to Simmons about this, who pats his head with a sarcastic "there-there" which gets a laugh out of Grif. There's a small handful of things that actually motivate him, anger, love, family, and the dark and infinite maw of existential loneliness and isolation. So given that this is the first, on behalf of the next two, he doesn't wholly want to quit. He does grudgingly agree when Simmons suggests a break, pointing out that their track record shows that they're at their best when they aren't really trying.

Has Grif mentioned that he loves this man? Because as with other things of this nature Simmons ends up being right. Separately they may each be a walking disaster of a human being but now that they're all official and doing the couple thing, Simmons is trying to relax and not wreck himself  and Grif is trying to be more responsible and motivated, and they're both trying to communicate better, they've become some kind of unstoppable force of book smarts and crafty laziness. He's almost afraid of what they could accomplish.

Things go into a bit of a lull after that, the incidents don't stop but there are less of them, and they tend to happen late at night. This doesn't stop everyone from still being insufferable though...

  
          It's almost 3 am when Grif wakes up, it's not unusual for that to happen given how often he naps, he's still figuring how to slip away without waking Simmons, he's got it down to about 50/50. Which is impressive considering that Simmons has always been a light sleeper, add in his cybernetics which are always monitoring the environment in some way, and it's like part of him never sleeps. Case in point, as he gets up Simmons' robo-eye snaps open and locks onto him, like an angry red laser pointer.

Grif gives it a disapproving look, "Hey," he scolds in a hushed whisper, "be good, don't wake him up. I'm just going to the bathroom."

The iris expands and contracts almost as though in reply before the eye goes dim and closes again.

He probably shouldn't be talking to Simmons' prosthesis like they're different people, because they're not, it's all just Simmons. It's something about all of it responding to what he wants, conscious or not? Like a real body part. At least that's what Grif thinks it is, he's not sure, it's just scraps he's gleaned over time, mostly from when Simmons has run past him screaming, followed by Dr. Grey, also screaming, only with words, something about trans-humanism and bridging the gap between _blah blah blah_.

So Simmons is weird, who cares? He's always been weird.

  
          He's on his way back from the bathroom when his musings are interrupted by his stomach growling. He has time for a little detour, nice midnight snack, well... early morning snack, it's just ticked past 3 am after all.

Perhaps technically breakfast? A pre-breakfast snack? Pre- _breakfast_ breakfast?

_Yeeeeeees..._

  
        He's not even trying to be sneaky, but it happens anyway. Grif hears the faint sound of someone rummaging in the fridge. He doesn't even think twice about how very unlikely it is that anyone else would be up beside him. He just walks right into the kitchen.

And there it is.

The _ghost_.

Except it isn't a ghost, just like he and Simmons have been nigh screaming for what has got to be a month at this point, in fact, it's someone very familiar, hunched over, looking inside the fridge, helmet on the counter like it's keeping watch.

Grif freezes.

Perhaps this is a stupid idea, but he really can't pass up this golden opportunity, he just wishes there was someone else there to witness this. Ah well, this will just have to be his own priceless memory.

There's nothing within reach, and he's too worried about making a sound to get closer so he just takes a deep breath, cups his hands around his mouth and...

  
“ **BOO**!”

  
          It is absolutely 1000% worth it to watch as Locus jumps like a startled cat, bashes his head on the shelf of the fridge he was looking under, flails and scrambles to the right to crouch defensively with the cabinet to his back, startled shriek muffled by the apple he has wedged between his teeth, thrusting a carton of milk out in front of him like it might save him, free hand having automatically moving to protect his head. He stays there, frozen and wide-eyed. There is a moment of total silence, broken only by the stuff that was displaced from the fridge slowly rolling away across the floor.

And Grif just fucking loses it, he's laughing so hard it hurts, he's trying to keep quiet but he's not doing a great job. Hopefully, no one will hear him, it would ruin this perfect moment!

“Jesus Christ! **Oh my god**! That was the best thing-! Holly shit dude that just made my _night!_ ” he gasps between peals of laughter.

He struggles to calm himself enough to actually look at Locus, who hasn't broken the pose he's wedged himself in, as he registers who Grif is he looks angry for just a moment before his expression turns more sheepish.

“Y-you can put that down,” Grif laughs, gesturing to the milk carton, “I'm not lactose intolerant.” he takes a deep breath to try and get himself back to normal before he does something embarrassing, like get the hiccups. They make him squeak. 

He watches as Locus slowly picks himself up, puts the carton down, and pulls the apple free, chewing on the bite that remains, slowly, as though it might help him save face. It really doesn't, but Grif will let him pretend.

This is the first time he's seen him without his helmet on isn't it? He should probably be more tactful but he can't help but gesture to his face, blurting out, “Huh, so the 'x' was the uh-?” he coughs when he gets glared at, “Never mind. Damn dude, you look like **shit**.”

He does. Locus looks like he hasn't been sleeping well, or at least not regularly, maybe wrong hours, or not enough? What is a noticeably dark complexion looks a bit ashen which only supports his theory, and while the bags under his eyes aren't going to win against the permanently dark bruising of Wash and Simmons', they are a strong contender. Throw in hair that's semi unkempt and starting to move towards the gross side of greasy? Yeah, grade 'A' shit.

The (ex?) mercenary coughs awkwardly, “Yes, well, I suppose you should pat yourself on the back. I wasn't having nearly this difficult of a time before you all moved in...”

Grif starts, “Wait... What?” Locus can't seriously be saying what he thinks he's saying, “You were already _living_ _here?!_ ”

Locus says nothing, seems he's finding the counter top to be extremely fascinating.

“ _What the hell dude?!_ Why didn't you say anything!? You've been, what, cloaked this whole time?”

Silence.

_“Oh my god!”_

It explains literally everything but Grif still can't believe it.

Locus clears his throat again, surveying the mess but not making a move to do anything about it yet, “Things didn't exactly go well the last time I tried to... say hello...”

Grif just gapes at him, plunking down in a chair, “Of all the things I assumed you were I will admit 'shy' was not one of them.”

The silence is broken by Locus taking another awkward bite out of his apple.

“You do realize that you can't just go back to being our resident poltergeist right?” Locus looks scandalized but Grif puts his foot down, the guy is still unsettling, but he's seen Grif at his worst and now he's seen him at his, so he feels like he can get away with it, “You're driving everyone bonkers! Not to mention you made Caboose cry.”

At least this guy has the decency to look ashamed at that.

“Look it'll be fine okay? We can prove to the others that you're not a bad guy, easy, no sweat! You're the one that found Caboose's book, right? So you've already got huge points in your corner. You haven't tried to kill anyone or do anything crazy.” Grif watches an orange travel merrily around a table leg, “Well... nothing _crazy_ , crazy.”

"No, I... I should go. I don't have much, I'll be out by morning."

Grif frowns at him, " **No**."

The other, probably older, man looks startled, clearly not expecting this.

"I guess you don't get it so let me break it down for you _meathead_. You can't keep skulking around all invisible, you're making everyone crazy. Plus some of our robotic-ly inclined members can more or less see you." he scoops up the orange as it begins its second adventure around the table, he's still hungry, "You were here first so no one is making you move out and we aren't going anywhere, trust me, it isn't good to be alone. Personal experience."

Locus watches him peel his snack, clearly not buying it, "I somehow doubt everyone would just be fine with me living here."

"You underestimate just how embarrassed everyone is going to be once they realize what a bunch of dip shits they've been."

" _Agent Carolina_ -"

"Will probably give you the stink eye for a while but she isn't going to say shit. She'd be a pretty big hypocrite, with that morality kick she's on and all." instead of pulling off slices, Grif takes a big bite out of the entirety of the orange, just to be obnoxious, "Besides, way I see it, Blue team got to adopt two former super soldier psychos, Red team has dibs this time."

Locus bristles at the mild insult by proxy, "I doubt that you have the _authority_ to-"

" _Ehp bup bup bup!_ As one of only two remaining sane representatives of the Reds and Blues," Grif says in his best Simmons-y voice, "protocol dictates that all critical decisions have to go through us and I say ' **Red team calls dibs** '."

"One of two is only 50%," the future Red team member, grouses, finally starting to pick things up off the floor, inaction starting to get to him, "that's not a majority."

"Yeah, but the other one is _Simmons_ and I know he'll say yes, he's as done with this shit as I am," Grif wiggles his eyebrows, which Locus scowls at, "besides I could just butter him up if it comes down to it." Mmmm... Butter. He looks about to see if there's anything else within reach he can snack on.

There isn't. He pouts.

"Worst thing that will happen is he'll lecture you. After that, he'll probably just bug you to teach him soldier shit."

Weirdly, the big guy actually seems to contemplate this notion, like he's never even thought someone might ever ask him to show them how to do something, "No, I'm sure Agent Washington would be better suited-"

" _Christ_ , Simmons is going to love you, you're both neurotic and you **love** making excuses!" Grif rolls his eyes, "Anyway, Wash won't teach anyone but Tucker. Personally, I think it's because he's all butt hurt that Simmons already knows how to use a knife." he snickers. Poor sad knife baby, all jealous over the like literally one soldier thing Simmons is good at.

"And what about _you_?" oh ho! Seems that's earned him a little nibble on the line. Could it be that Locus is the kind of person who likes to be useful? Is he just an insecure dork under all the angst?

"Me? Nah, I don't do that ' _work_ ' stuff. I'll watch though, give the occasional word of encouragement."

Locus says nothing but he fiddles with some of the things he's picked up, and it looks like there might be a bit more color on his cheeks.

Oh my god he really is just a massive insecure doofus! No, that settles it, as if hasn't already decided, they have dibs on this one.

Locus for Red team!

Grif grins like a sonofabitch. Which he is, he's okay admitting that. So is just about everyone else here, so it's fine.

"Then it's settled!" he doesn't give Locus time to protest, "We do need to go wake up Simmons first though, so we can figure out the best way to let everyone else know you're here." he hums, "I'm _thinking_... We just let them wander in here in the morning, act like nothing's out of the ordinary. Oh man, I can absolutely get Simmons in on this, we'll pretend you've always been here. Like, 'oh Locus? Yeah, he's been here since we moved in. You didn't see him? That's probably because he's a _ghost_. He's making eggs, want some?'... You can make eggs right?"

Locus looks stricken, "You people are **insane**."

Grif just shrugs, "Gotta have fun somehow. Besides if it's awkward enough they won't freak out about it." he smirks, "You all done putting that away? You want to make a good impression right?"

Locus is probably seething, and probably he should back off, but this is just too much _fun_. The image the guy paints as he's hunched over again, carefully putting things back in the fridge is _hysterical_ and Grif wishes he had a camera. Maybe he should get a cool robo eye too? Then he could take pictures whenever he wanted!

Simmons is probably going to be miffed at being woken up this early, but Grif is confident that his boyfriend will agree that it's important. Their earliest risers are up around 5, so that gives them two hours to make a somewhat coherent plan _and_ make Locus take a shower. It's plenty of time. Plus if he's up early then Simmons will be tired and Grif can get him to join him for a nap later! Win-win! See? Locus is already helping out Red team! Or at least team Grif.

God this going to be the best thing ever. He wonders who's reaction will be the best? Carolina maybe? She's either going to manage to keep her default stone-faced expression or she'll crack for a few seconds and they'll get to see her look like a fish. Wash might be better because, in all honesty, Grif is expecting him not to notice for an _uncomfortably long_ amount of time. Tucker will probably be the most animated, probably the loudest too, although Donut may be a close second. That or he'll just squeak and faint. Sarge, he's not so sure of. Either he'll just immediately accept the new situation and have no reaction, or he'll assume Locus really _is_ a ghost and try to exorcise him with homemade holy water for the next few days, **OR** he'll lecture him about his cooking. Because Grif was completely serious about the eggs thing. His entire vague plan hinges on this. The best part is probably going to be Caboose though, guy is all for new friends, and when he finds out that Locus is the one who found his book and brought it back he's going to be delighted.

This is going to be great! Completely worth it after the month of bullshit he's had to suffer through.

He can't wait to introduce these nutcases to their " _ghost_ ".

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! Hope you all enjoyed it! As always, I love hearing your feedback! It's what keeps me motivated to make even more of this nonsense! Much love - CC


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